


The head and the heart

by Santsi



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: F/F, F/M, Ficlets, Romance, one shots, requests taken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santsi/pseuds/Santsi
Summary: The Paradox Chronicles. Drabbles on various pairings by request. Part Four: The Sinner: 'She could have loved him.' LaurieFez





	1. Chapter 1

I.

When the fire in her eyes made his heart frigid and raw he knew he was in trouble.

It started with a sideways glance. He should've known to bury it- forget about it, leave it alone. But he still had shreds of hope in his heart that Edna hadn't eaten away yet. They clung on to the idea of Donna like a parasite. Feeding on the wrongness. Feeding on the forbidden fruit. She was his friend; his dawn after the dark, his safe place in a despondent world, but most of all she was Eric's.

It probably would've killed him, and in all honesty he'd rather be hopeless and pining over things that would never happen than be stuck in a house with Edna because he had betrayed the only ones who really gave a shit.

He kissed her though. He went for it when his gut told him not to. ( Still young and rebellious and wreck-less ) And when her hand connected with his face he wasn't surprised or shocked. Really, it didn't even hurt. He wasn't sure if it was from the lingering sensation of her lips overpowering his senses or if it was because, when he saw the fire in her eyes, it numbed him to the core.

Either way, he kissed her.

Later that night, when he took what was left of the whiskey outside to reason with the snow, he came to the conclusion that the art of wanting but not having was something he had practiced all his life and had worked for him so far.

(Why he decided to try to attain the fire in her heart, he doesn't really know.

He decides hope is better left to drown in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey and burn hot through the filter of his cigarette.

He decides when dawn lights up the sky pale and gray, maybe Edna was right all along.)


	2. The fix Jackie and Fez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fix.

She wasn't sure which was crazier; his patience or her own ignorance.

Granted, had she not been so utterly absorbed in fixing, fixing, fixing, she might have seen it sooner.

And of course he was attractive in his unique Fez way; strong jaw line, deep arched eye brows, charming smile, and that body. That body.

He had broad shoulders and muscular arms. Not to mention they were always there. To cry on. To hold her. All the way through Michael's California summer and Steven's absent, hopeless winter.

Maybe the reason she never saw it was because she chose not to. After all, she was painfully aware of her tendency to leash a man before they could blink. Not that it wasn't necessary, and not that Fez wouldn't gladly wear it even if it choked the life out of him. Maybe that was just the reason. He was so perfectly smitten and Jackie was so desperate to make things perfect.

What did she have to fix when something wasn't broken?

But of course as girls she grew up, and Daddydidn'tloveme turned into butIloveme, and the world wasn't such a sick place, and everything didn't havetobeperfect- needtobefixed- makehimloveme.

Though, as life is life, some things are already perfect- really perfect. And there Fez was (always is) With that perfect smile, perfect shoulders, perfect adoration, and that million dollar perfect, perfect kiss. (And she had to admit his butt wasn't bad either.)

She brought him to the park where she used to play with her dolls and laughed with him like they always had. Somewhere in between his hopeful touch and the afternoon sun she realized love can flow steady and boundless like a river, rather than hot and quick like a flame.

She ruffled the pleats on her sundress and felt her cheeks flush from the burn of his stare.

Then again, maybe real love burns and flows at the same time. Or maybe love takes whatever form it pleases, and as long as he's still kissing her like that, she couldn't give a damn less about what kind of love it is.

It's the best she's ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> companion piece to Saisonner.


	3. The Early Bird Red and Kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The early bird catches the worm

Red Forman watches the sun rise every morning. Always has.

When he was a child, it was because his father told him to. 'The early bird gets the worm, the lazy bird gets a boot in the ass." When your ten a boot, a branch, and a belt are all pretty much the same thing, so he did as he was told and greeted the morning with sleepy eyes and a quiet resentment.

When he was in the army, it was because his superior told him to, "Wake up, maggot!" When your nineteen and the pride in your heart, and love for your country keeps you going through the rain and blood and so many lost you rise with the sun and thank God you get to see it.

When he met her, everything changed.

There was love, and there was trust, and there was balance.

Then, there were children, and back yard barbeques, and neighbors, and work, work, work.

But there was still her.

Now Red Forman wakes up to the smell of coffee. Kitty brews a pot just for him and her. The smell is deep and bold and crisp, and the morning light is peeking over the fence in their back yard.

She watches the sun rise and he watches her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite.


	4. The Sinner Fez and Laurie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sinner

She could have loved him; so bright-eyed and naïve. But she'd played the bitch for so long, discerning Laurie from sinner, slut, no daughter of mine was impossible at times.

She did love her borther. And though callousness never escaped her, she secretly adored the younger spawn of her parents, that loved her and needed her- some time long ago before her body ruined her.

And though she could have loved Fez, she did love her brother. So, unbeknownst to those around her she made the little twerp happy. Because for some God-awful reason, she wanted to.

And she could have loved Fez.

That day she married him, masked it with 'dumb slut', sealed it with a kiss, and watched her brother and his friends from the side lines with only the contemptuous smile you'd get from the villain.

But in her heart, beneath the dirty smirk and the make up and the hot rollers, she was soaring. Laurie was a saint- a saint to her devil of a brother, a sinner to her renegade Jesus of a father, and to herself she was Laura again.

However, an empty victory is just that. There is no substance to a loveless marriage, no bounds to her vapid tongue, and no limits to the hearts she would crush to get what she wanted.

Fourteen shots and throat deep into a stranger on her honeymoon she realized this. And when her Jesus of a father almost died, and she took a shot and laughed, a hollow desperate laugh, she realized the sinner inside her hadn't died and never would.

And she could have loved Fez.

"Hey, why'd you stop?" A stranger's sticky hands wrap around her hair and she dives downward.

And she could have loved herself.


End file.
